


How Peter Bishop Used Star Trek and Cosplay to Get Laid

by lulebell



Category: Fringe
Genre: Costume Kink, F/M, Missing Scene, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-02
Updated: 2010-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulebell/pseuds/lulebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Missing scene from episode 1x19.</p>
    </blockquote>





	How Peter Bishop Used Star Trek and Cosplay to Get Laid

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene from episode 1x19.

They leave Grayson's apartment quickly, Olivia sucking in her lips the whole way to the car; Peter practically raced her there. She buckles her seatbelt but doesn't start the car. Finally she releases her lips, looking over at Peter then back out the windshield then back to Peter again, debating, always debating. He grins at her then stares out the windshield, letting her come to her own conclusions. She never fails to disappoint him.

"Did you...?" She pauses, sucking her lips back into her mouth, refusing to make eye contact.

"Did I what?"

She turns back to face him. "How did you know all of that?"

"All of what?"

"All of that... Star Trek stuff. The whole Son of Serek and live long and prosper bit."

"Well," he turns from her, then back, with glinting eyes and a slightly embarrassed smile.   
"I did spend some time in the library while at MIT."

"Where you researched Star Trek?"

He produces a pair of black framed glasses from the breast pocket of his peacoat.

"Contrary to popular belief, Star Trek nerds really do get laid."

"Even Grayson?"

"No. Not him."

She smiles despite herself, their situation, and the inevitable doom that threatened them and the world. He smiles back, congratulating himself with a smug smile; he stares straight ahead at the oncoming blur of road.

She's quiet while she drives, stealing glances out the corner of her eye, wondering if he could see her or not.

"What else did you learn?"

"Cosplay."

"Cosplay?"

"You know, costumes. Like Halloween for adults."

"Hence the glasses."

"Hence the glasses."

\---

In an act of un-Olivianess, she had left the back office with a stack of unfinished reports and paper work strewn about the table haphazardly.

She stood suddenly, throwing her pen down on the table. "Do you want a drink?"

He eyed the recently opened sodas on the table as she waltzed out the door, not bothering to take off her glasses.

"Uh, sure."

She was gone for awhile - longer than it should have taken to walk down to the vending machine and back again. He eyed the vacant lab out the office window: Astrid had some how taken Walter home, convincing him that Gene really didn't need an evening walk. The promise of a root beer slurpee sealed the deal as they left together, Walter skipping out the door in glee, Astrid's eyes glinted as she followed. Peter downed the second soda when Olivia filled the doorframe once again.

His jaw dropped and for the first time in his life, Peter Bishop was rendered speechless. Before him stood the former FBI agent, replaced by a school girl. Olivia had let her hair out of its elastic and it cascaded over her open blouse, streaking the grey tweed blazer with yellow. A red tie hung loosely between her breasts, clad in black with pink ribbons lacing through the cups. The tie matched her red and blue plaid skirt, which matched the navy blue knee socks.

"What's this?" The words choked in his suddenly-dry throat.

"Cosplay."

"Is it?"

"You'd be the expert."

He nods, looking her up and down, letting all of the air out of his chest. "That I am."

He approaches her slowly, his hands finding her thigh and he feels the garter straps that disappear under her skirt. He leans into her; his breath quickens and his heart races. He licks his lips as she toys with his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. He leans in closer and decides to just fucking do it, until she stops him and he almost dies on his feet.

"You're forgetting something." With her hand on his chest under his shirt, he could hardly breathe, let alone think.

"I am?" She smiles at his cracking voice.

"A matching pair." She touches the side of his face with one finger, running it over his jaw and down his neck.

"A cosplay for my cosplayer?" He slides the glasses over his nose.

"That's the idea." She leans in and touches his lips with her own.

"Star Trek nerds really do get laid." He talks between kisses, his hands unbuttoning her blouse, cupping her breasts in his hands.

"Even Peter Bishop?" She unzips his fly and pushes his pants down to his knees.

"Especially Peter Bishop." She's in his arms suddenly and he spreads her out on the table; a whirlwind of paper flies up in every which way, blanketing the window to the empty lab in a makeshift curtain, leaving them alone to the night.


End file.
